


Always wanted to see it

by Sortiara



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Crossover, Desmond Miles Lives, Gen, I never know what rating to use so I'm going with M for now, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sortiara/pseuds/Sortiara
Summary: A crossover AU and a crossover ship, what more can you want?AKA that one where Desmond survives and after AC:3, heads to Seattle, just as some Conduits suddenly start raising hell.
Relationships: Desmond Miles/Delsin Rowe
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	Always wanted to see it

**Author's Note:**

> Who! Let! Me! Write! This!
> 
> It's 2020 and I'm kicking it off with and old school ship and crossover from my 2014 days of when I first got a PS4 I guess. This is such a niche corner of both fandoms too, I hope it's not totally dead out here. But hey, it's fun to write so, enjoy!

Desmond hadn’t died.

The fact alone was amazing when he’d expected to one; be dead, and two; be in a lot of pain for the brief seconds he had left on this fucking mortal plane to the point where death probably would have been nice. Actually, point two still happened. If he thinks about the way his arm nearly crumbled to bits touching that orb he starts to feel sick if he doesn’t move his mind along fast enough.

But no one had expected him to live. Not even Juno had any expectation of him existing, and it seems that had scrambled her plans as well since she hadn’t stopped howling in the deep web since she’d gotten out into the systems. His father was halfway between praising him and being unsure of what to say to him still, but that was nothing new.

The only people who acted with any semblance of normalcy were Rebecca and Shaun. They were used to his bullshit at this point and Desmond is pretty sure he’d have to grow a third arm to shock either of them at this point. So at least he has them to text and send stupid complaints to.

But there were two problems. One; he’s so physically and mentally fucked up that even in all his stubborn glory, Desmond knew he couldn’t go right back into field work, even if he is finally getting into Assassin life to some degree. Two; his arm had done something freaky and weird and basically charred off a layer of skin before he’d collapsed in that cavern. The new boon was a wicked set of scars on top of the pain he needed months of physical therapy to be able to cope with. If you can call cool scars a boon. Desmond is still kind of considering saying fuck it and covering it with tons of tattoos to make it look better.

That second problem spiraled out the more time went by. Abstergo had still followed their tracks after they got the hell out and had in true creepy mad science fashion they had scraped up every bit of his DNA and somehow made it viable again. Now he wasn’t the only one with his hot line access code to the Assassin’s past. But they also thought he was dead. 

He was as good as a ghost to the Templars. Which about summed up how he was feeling most days to boot.

But with the most animus experience in the business now, that security risk put Rebecca and Shaun back in the field on their own. He hated not being able to back them up but they’d basically gone without permission. They’d caught some ideals working with him for so long and Rebecca was even ignoring his father. Which was...wild to see them just snub the leader of the assassins like it was nothing. Especially when Shaun broke out his internal dictionary of insulting English euphemisms.

He’s a few months out of mandatory physical therapy, ignoring the need for psychological therapy, nearly a year into worrying about his friends now family, an unholy amount of time into ignoring his father's attempts at showing him how the order worked (he’s built it three times as Ezio twice as Altair and once as Connor thank you very much he’s had enough of that for a long while), when he catches wind of something interesting.

“Hey Rebecca?” He gets a few video hours with them a week or so, checking in. He’s the only one with any sway over them long term though calling him a squad leader of any kind would be excessive. Apparently they’ve found a couple possible descendents and maybe Assassin allies mixed into Abstergo’s hiring batches. Poor people, he hopes they don’t end up with Bleeding Effects as bad as him. But it means his friends have been extra busy since there’s also hints of Juno in those systems now.

She looks up from her keyboard and shoots him a grin. They don’t even talk much sometimes, well they do, him and Shaun can argue for hours. But him and Rebecca chat, go over mission reports, and then just work in each others space once she’s calmed down enough. Sometimes she just needs someone to bounce ideas off of. “What’s up Des?”

“You seen the news out of Seattle lately?”

She blinks and he can see a tab pop up in the corner of her other screen. She whistles softly. “Ohhhh boy, looking busy out there. I haven’t read all this so, cut to the chase, what’s got your attention?”

“The hell is a Conduit?”

The look he gets from her affirms his absolute hatred of how he grew up. “Fuck I forgot how sheltered you were, and you kept your head down when you ran too. And no one hires Conduits, not even us.” She clicks her tongue. “No offense Des, but your childhood bites.”

“Tell me about. So, think you can catch me up on Seattle?”

“I can damn well try. Where were you like, seven years ago? That’s when most of that shit started. I can pull from a few databases too if you want more info.” Rebecca scrolls around a little more. “Looks like that freaky prison was slated to be closed too...weird.” As he watches he sees more notifications pop up on that side screen and she groans. “Great, more shit out of Chicago. Y’know, I have work to do too!”

Desmond snorts and shoots her a sympathetic smile, and then settles in for one hell of a story.

<>

Head spinning about an hour later, Desmond wonders how the world got so out of hand. “They related to Assassins somehow?” The bloodlines of those who came before manifested oddly. Eagle Sense was usually genetic but by records it also popped up randomly at times. Maybe it manifested differently with this Conduit gene.

Rebecca shrugs. “No idea. Could be them, could be total human wildness. DUP is run by what we think might be a Templar shell, their weapons are Abstergo sponsored about half the time, but Curdun Cay keeps its records on lock down. Seven years isn’t a long time for solid research on either end, and a lot of shit went up in flames in that Empire City mess. Templars won that information game though. No one goes near Conduits, they’re too high risk even for Assassins, and are felons according to Templars, though I’m sure they’d try to use them.” The feed crackles into static for a moment as their blockers cut the transmission as some Abstergo sweeper notices them and Rebecca makes a face. “I gotta go, sorry Desmond, work tomorrow and shit.”

He laughs. “Nah it’s fine, I know. Be safe out there, annoy Shaun for me at that coffee stand.”

She winks. “Always do!” With that the screen goes black, and Desmond switches the whole set off as he leans back in his chair.

He looks back at his security laced phone and scrolls through the news article that he’d found randomly while trying to see what the world was up to.

And then Desmond does the most stupid thing he’s done this year, and looks up the driving route to Seattle. Where they’re hiding out right now, it turns out, it’s less than a day out. He isn’t sure why he’s so interested in this. Maybe because it’s so clearly not a top layer for an Assassin and Templar standoff. Maybe he’s hungry for the bits of the world he’s never heard of until now. Maybe he does have issues not saving people after so long in the Animus (Shaun does like to say that Assassins historically have a penchant for wild, self sacrificing stupidity after all), maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s bored, maybe he’s trying to run away again...But the hint of people getting crushed down that even the Assassin’s won’t touch? Something about that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He can’t risk Chicago or Silicone Valley after all, no one’s found a way around ctOS quite yet unless you’re a bona fide hacker, and the Assassins that are in there are doing some grassroots work with people Desmond couldn’t hope to help with. But no one’s in Seattle. 

Where better for a ghost to set up shop for a little while? It’s a dead zone for the war, and no one would look for him there, or expect to see him. Desmond snaps up his fake IDs, the bartending credentials that match said fakes, his hidden blade, all his other gear now easily packed into one bag after so much practice along with some cash, and snags an extra coat for over his hoodie. He swipes one set of keys for a small car, and gets a stupid thrill avoiding the rest of the hideout in this network of cabins in the Rockies, and his father, perfectly until he’s out in the forest back roads they stashed the vehicles on.

He’s halfway through Oregon before he sends Shaun and Rebecca a text to not freak out once William realizes. He’s just getting into Washington when the shit hits the proverbial fan. He can’t help but laugh wildly as the radio stations switch along with the state line and his phone feels warm under his palm with all the ignored texts and calls. Desmond ditches the car in a drop zone he knows their people can usually get to, fucking bless Assassin forethought of knowing how to get new vehicles fast, and can’t help the instinct. He snags a bike from the garage too, registration all too easy to get now that he knows the routine for the fakes, and it’s almost like his old one. And he heads straight shot for the city, feeling the most like his old self that he has in a very long time. The pain in his arm even died down to a low buzz with his focus so far away from it.

How's the saying go? Hitting the town right? Desmond's never been to Seattle, it’s not one they have safe houses in. 

He wonders if the town hits back at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly intended to write both of them in this first chapter but before I knew it, I'd just gotten emotional about Desmond and just, here we are.


End file.
